


Unintended

by sassafrasx



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American AU, Bisexuality, Boston, Fluff and Smut, General Shenanigans, Hospitals, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassafrasx/pseuds/sassafrasx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine would like it to be known that he did not intend for any of this.</p><p>Although he thinks it all turned out rather brilliantly for everyone involved in the end.</p><p>In which Gwaine's a nurse, Arthur has too many layers but is probably not an ogre, and Merlin has no fashion sense but definitely needs more sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintended

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gwaine Fest and many, many thanks to our absolutely awesome mods! It's been a blast.
> 
> Also, the greatest thanks to my amazing, wonderful artist, [wassereis](http://wassereis.tumblr.com/), who created all the art you see here. Go see her [masterpost](http://ja-oe-seon.tumblr.com/post/79756824174) and make sure to send her all the love she deserves for making such fabulous pieces!
> 
> (And thank you all again for your patience while I dealt with the devil's flu, oh dear lord.)

Flicking through his charts, Gwaine sighs. Another 12-hour day almost over (although truthfully by the time he finishes his paperwork it’ll be more like 14). He’d give anything for a hot shower right now.

When he gets back to the desk, he sees a whole gaggle of fresh-faced doctors hovering around Dr. Gorlois, who is glowering as she hammers home all the rules and policies and procedures. She has a reputation for terrifying anyone new to their floor for good reason. Gwaine swears that he can feel her eyes following him around even when she’s nowhere in sight. And he has been working with her for years and considers himself largely immune to her intense, kohl-rimmed eyes. He always feels sorry for her new residents.

Lingering by the desk, he lets his gaze wander over the small crowd, subtly checking them out. Who knows what treasures might await him in the newest batch, after all.

In the back of the group, hands clenched around a paper coffee cup, is a pair of long, lean legs and dark, unruly hair. Interesting. He is turned the wrong direction so Gwaine isn't able to get a clear look at his face, but something about him definitely catches Gwaine's attention, even under the formless, billowing white coat.

As they are dismissed, Gwaine casually strolls over and accidentally, of course, bumps lightly into the man, who lets out a squeak and nearly sloshes coffee all over himself.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. Here, let me take that for you,” Gwaine says with a smile, grabbing the cup and allowing him to wipe off his hand in peace. But instead he just raises it up and _licks_ it off ( _good god, a man after his own heart_ ), giving Gwaine his first good look at his face — and tongue, it’s important not to forget that lovely tongue — and _hello_ cheekbones and baby blues. _Fuck yeah_. This day is definitely looking up.

He watches as the man’s eyes widen a bit while taking Gwaine in and then he hurriedly pulls himself up to his full height, a light blush spreading across his face, and babbles, “Oh, it’s— not to worry! Just a little bump. Coffee had gone cold anyway, no permanent damage.” He waves his hand around in demonstration and Gwaine admires how cute he looks when flustered. Adorable, truly adorable. “Um, I’m Merlin, one of the new residents.”

“Well, Merlin, may I be the first to welcome you to the neonatal unit of this fine hospital. I’m Gwaine.” He grabs Merlin’s hand for a handshake, and if it lasts a bit too long, it is purely unintentional (and completely worth the way it makes Merlin flush prettily even more).

Then, of course, Dr. Gorlois is there — he swears she has some sort of fun-detector — snapping, “Believe it or not, you are not the official or unofficial welcoming committee of Mass General. Don’t you have work to be doing, _Nurse_?”

 _Witch_. Merlin looks scared and more than a bit wary as she towers over them both (and how can someone so much more petite than them dominate so much space, anyway?). Gwaine isn’t sure he has the heart to break it to him that that will be full-blown terror by the end of the week.

Gwaine flashes his brightest smile, refusing to be cowed by doom-and-gloom herself. “Of course,  _Doctor_. I was just apologizing for bumping into him and spilling his coffee.”

She snorts. (So he might have a bit of a reputation for having dated every single attractive gay doctor in the hospital. And the nurses too, although there are a lot more gay doctors for some reason.) “That’s what you’re calling it these days? Stop pestering my doctors,” she says and flounces off. Someone else must be having more fun and needs to be glared it.

“Wow. I know I’ve been warned about her, but seriously, wow.” Merlin seems to be somewhere between awe and considerable worry, if the furrow between his eyebrows is any indication.

Laughing, Gwaine winks and says, “Just don’t listen to a single thing she has to say about me. It’s all lies, I swear. Well, mostly lies anyway. I should get back to work though, but I definitely look forward to seeing you around, Merlin. Hope you have a good first day.”

Merlin is grinning as Gwaine starts backing away and he swears he hears him say to himself, “ _It’s already a thousand times better_ ,” but he can’t be sure.

Suddenly feeling much more energetic about his charts, and the future in general, Gwaine whistles to himself while he finishes up his work. That shower is going to feel damn good when he gets home.

—

The next time Gwaine is able to track down Merlin, he's on his way home and looking exhausted but his eyes light up and he manages a little grin, giving a short and awkwardly adorable wave.

"Oh, um, hi! Fancy seeing you here... Since we both work on this floor and all. So I guess it was only a matter of time... Oh god, I need to stop talking." By this point the tips of his ears are bright red and he seems so unbelievably mortified that Gwaine just wants to kiss him and curl up around him while he babbles absolute nonsense. He's just too damn cute for his own good, even if he doesn't realize it.

Laughing, Gwaine smiles widely. "No, please continue. I'm very much enjoying listening to your voice. In fact" — Gwaine grabs his arm and steers him toward the elevator — "I was hoping you might join me for a cup of coffee, so I could listen to you speak even more."

He ducks his head a bit, but he looks pleased when he glances up and says, "I'd love to."

Over the course of the next hour or two, Gwaine learns quite a few things:

1\. Merlin is possibly even more gorgeous with a bright purple beanie pulled down tightly over his ears and a pink and green monstrosity of a scarf wrapped thickly around his neck. Cheeks pink from the bracing air, he chatters on animatedly with long, graceful fingers waving every which way. He’s pretty and endearing and kind of awkward, but so happy and well-meaning about it, and Gwaine can’t remember the last time he enjoyed simply being in another person’s presence this much. He even finds himself liking the hideous outerwear choices, which are an absolute affront to humankind, and blames cheekbone-induced insanity for his decision to take the coffees to go and walk along the esplanade, despite the chill. It may mean more time in the presence of that scarf, but the flush on Merlin’s face and the excitement in his eyes as they watch the sailboats on the Charles are definitely worth it.

2\. Merlin is very sensitive to caffeine and while he may be completely sleep-deprived, he should never be given any beverage with espresso in it. This leads to babbling and hand movements at a speed that would shock even a 13-year-old fangirl squealing about One Direction.

3\. Somehow that is also endearing.

4\. Although Merlin was born in the U.S., they were both raised by single Irish mothers (him in Southie, Merlin in Lowell) and they have to roll their eyes and laugh at how stupidly stereotypical they are. Gwaine avoids talking about his early childhood in Ireland, though, despite Merlin’s curiosity. He’s surprised by how little the idea of telling Merlin about his fucked up family bothers him, but firmly believes that most things are best left in the past. Especially his.

5\. Merlin is having a party that weekend with his best friend and roommate, Arthur. They have apparently been roommates since they were first randomly assigned to each other freshman year of college and Gwaine has to admire the number of years they have willingly shared space with one another. He makes a firm note to get on Arthur’s good side and wheedle him for information.

6\. He loves the pleasant thrum of excitement all this brings him.

—

The party, however, does not go exactly as planned.

The haughty blond who opens the door and looks at him with disdain immediately sets Gwaine on edge.

“Oh, you must be the _nurse_ ,” he sniffs and turns away without so much as a by your leave.

Grinding his teeth, he steps through the door and finds himself with an armful of Merlin, who shouts, “Gwaine!” and wraps his arms around his shoulders, placating him somewhat.

He can smell whatever sweet cocktail Merlin’s been drinking and he laughs at Merlin’s already rosy cheeks. “You started without me. I’m wounded.”

He laughs even more when Merlin pulls back and Gwaine can finally see the baby blue Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and scuffed jeans that are two sizes too big and that damn pink and green scarf he is wearing. Combined with the terrible case of bedhead and general lack of footwear (a scarf but no shoes?), he looks ridiculous.

(Later he will learn that Morgana declared the shoes unfit for human consumption and abducted them for his own good.)

Gwaine is smitten.

Merlin giggles and grabs his hand, yanking him toward the circle of people to begin introductions. Gwaine has to ask though, “Who's the jackass who opened the door?”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin says, “That’s just Arthur, feel free to ignore him.”

“ _That’s_ Arthur?” Gwaine seriously begins to worry about Merlin's judgment.

But Merlin only laughs and waves his hand, saying, "Oh god, I thought the same when I first met him, let me tell you. But he's actually a really good man underneath it all, I swear. He truly means well. Somewhere in there. You just have to peel back the layers a bit."

Layers. Right. What is he, Shrek?

Before Gwaine can question him more on the entitled prick, he finds himself being pulled from one person to another and is happy at least that everyone else seems exceedingly nice. He quickly learns that Gwen and Lance are actually too sweet and are probably best avoided lest he corrupt their saintly souls, Arthur’s sister Morgana dresses like some sort of heiress — obviously Arthur is some sort of rich fuck, hardly surprising, especially given the apartment, which he _is_ surprised Merlin can afford to share — and favors that type of all-knowing smirk that makes Gwaine roll his eyes (but at least she’s gracious and polite), and Mithian and Elena are exactly his kind of people.

From her perch on Mithian’s lap, Elena waves her bottle around, convincing Merlin that a game of Up the River, Down the River is a great idea.

Merlin loses spectacularly, guessing every card wrong, and slumps against Gwaine, glassy-eyed and smiling with all the swigs from the bottle he’s been forced to drink. Unable to resist, Gwaine pets his hair softly and hums in contentment as Merlin snuggles a bit into his shoulder.

So smitten. It’s terrible.

Of course Arthur has to interrupt.

“ _Elena!_ What are you doing? You know how he gets!” He scowls before snatching the whiskey (truly, she is his favorite kind of girl) and storming off in a huff.

“What is his problem?”

Mithian laughs from where she’s stroking her girlfriend’s back and ignoring the incoherent giggling into her neck. “He may not come across well at first, but he’s one of the best people I know, honestly. He’s an amazing lawyer and I have to work with him every day, so trust me, I know everything about him, good and bad. Isn’t that right, Ellie? Arthur’s great to work with.”

Elena snaps to, happily shouting, “Arthur!” But then she scowls and slurs, “No, I don’t like him right now. He took the whiskey and is a party pooper. _Arthur is a party pooper!_ ”

Everyone snickers as Arthur yells back from the kitchen, “Fuck off! You’re not the one who will get stuck cleaning up the vom.”

“Party pooper,” she mumbles, pouting and cuddling back into Mithian’s lap.

Shaking his head, Gwaine laughs and asks, “So you’re all lawyers?”

“Mmm. Me, Arthur, and Lance specialize in civil rights law at the ACLU. Gwen and Elena are two of our paralegals.”

Well damn. Eying Arthur, who’s now grinning and carrying on across the room, he is forced to concede that there might be some redeeming qualities there.

Somewhere. Underneath the rich, obnoxious layers apparently.

Stumbling up, Merlin gives him a huge smile and promises to return soon. “Need a piss.”

While he waits for Merlin, Gwaine wanders toward the kitchen, hoping to find where the whiskey bottle has disappeared to. What he does end up finding are the most amazing pair of biceps he’s ever seen.

Honestly, they’re huge and he definitely has to strike up a conversation with the owner, who turns out to be Arthur’s friend and personal trainer, Percy.

And he’ll be the first to admit that he might be flirting a bit. It must be in his DNA somewhere, because he never has been able to stop himself. It’s like a compulsion. Even with women, and he has never once been interested in getting in their pants.

Percy is quiet and blushes slightly while he stutters something about workout regimens or whatever Gwaine had asked him about, he’s not really paying attention (because _arms_ , seriously, are they even real?).

When Gwaine reaches forward to squeeze his bicep (he has to, it’s a drive, as inevitable as gravity) Merlin finally manages to find his way back from the bathroom.

Such is Gwaine’s life. _Why him?_ He is much more interested in Merlin at the moment than he is in Percy, no matter how amazing his arms look, but that clearly isn’t going to stop Merlin from completely misreading the situation.

For two seconds Merlin begins to droop, but then he rallies himself together, coming up and throwing his arms around both of them and calling for more drinks.

“You two are much too sober,” he proclaims with a grin and Gwaine kind of hates how nice he is in that moment and wonders how he can somehow get the night moving back in the right direction — the one where he learns all about Merlin’s bed, even if only for some drunken making out.

He has a terrible feeling that he has somehow just been moved into the friend zone.

(This feeling will be confirmed the next day when Merlin texts him Percy’s number with a winky face and a “I thought you might be wanting this” and Gwaine will actually bang his head into the kitchen table in frustration.)

By the end of the night, Merlin is beyond sloshed and Gwaine helps him into bed, making sure to untangle the scarf from around his neck so he doesn’t accidentally strangle himself in his sleep. Grabbing a glass of water and some crackers from the kitchen, he places them on the bedside table and sighs, giving Merlin a kiss on his forehead and whispering, “I hope you had a good night, gorgeous.”

Merlin only snuffles and curls up more, but there’s a small smile on his face, so Gwaine can’t be too miffed about the night.

When he turns around Arthur is watching him with a furrow in his brow. “I guess you’re not as bad as Morgause made you out to be.”

“Oh god, you know Morgause?”

“Well, yeah, she’s Morgana’s half-sister. When Merlin decided to go into neonatal, we immediately got in contact with her for him,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jamb.

“She’s _your half-sister_?” Gwaine shudders.

“Oh fuck no. Morgana’s actually only my half-sister, so, no, I do not share any blood with that woman. At all.” If possible, he looks even more horrified at the prospect than Gwaine.

Snorting, Gwaine admits that that probably explains a lot actually. He can only imagine the stories about him Morgause has been trying to frighten Arthur with.

Arthur is still an ass though.

—

A couple weeks later, during which Merlin has practically disappeared in the harried miasma of stress typical of most resident doctors, Gwaine has to admit that he has been well and truly friend zoned.

They’re at a bar with Arthur, Elena, and Mithian when Merlin catches the eye of some guy at the other end.

Grabbing Gwaine’s arm, Merlin turns to him and shakes him a little. “Is he looking at me? Oh god. He’s cute, isn’t he? What should I do?”

Gwaine laughs and gives him a firm pat on the shoulder, saying, “He is definitely checking you out and if you think he’s cute you should go talk to him. I’m sure he’ll love you.”

Merlin beams and says, “You’re right,” while Gwaine internally curses at his relegation to wingman.

Once Merlin is off flirting up a storm and sending them a huge thumbs up, Arthur looks at him with a small frown. "Are you not interested in him anymore?"

"Oh, no, I am. But he looked so hopeful and I like it when he smiles more,” he says, shrugging helplessly.

Arthur considers him for a long while, before nodding and grudgingly admitting, “You’re a lot different than I expected.”

“I could say the same to you, Princess.”

Laughing, Arthur rolls his eyes and takes a swig of his beer. “Fair enough.” Eventually, he continues, “Look, I know we didn’t start off on the best foot, but my indoor soccer team has lost a player and you seem like you’d be a good fit, so if you’re interested, I’m sure the guys would love to have you.”

And that is how Gwaine begins to be sucked into Arthur’s life, just like everyone else.

—

Somehow he ends up spending a lot of time with Arthur. A lot more than expected, anyway. Soccer games turn into afternoons on the couch shrieking at each other over Call of Duty (honestly, Arthur is a weak ass shot, what the hell) and beers over Bruins games down at their local.

Damn, he loves hockey season. And fuck if it isn't convenient that they live so close together.

If only Merlin were ever actually around and not logging 90-hour work weeks and passing out on convenient cots.

They are both so pretty to look at and all this time spent cooped up in their space with no outlet is starting to make Gwaine a little desperate.

He really needs to get laid.

But the couch is unbelievably comfortable and the beers are always cold, and certain blond-headed company really isn't too bad on the eyes. He's content to wait, for the moment at least.

Merlin's lovely legs have to come home at some point, right?

"Dude, is that an N64? Fuck yeah. Mario Kart?"

Arthur grins.

—

Eventually Arthur confides that all of Gwaine’s suspicions are correct.

"You know, Merlin definitely thinks you only like him as a friend, the idiot."

Gwaine sighs and grumbles, "Some way to talk about your friend.”

Arthur merely cocks an eyebrow and smirks. "So you haven't been trying to get in his pants then?"

Rolling his eyes, Gwaine throws his empty beer can at him, sending them both into a fit of laughter as Arthur bats it away. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe I am. Too bad you're straight, with all the time I've spent hanging around you I could at least be getting something out of it," he says, grinning and sliding his gaze appreciatively down Arthur's body in the most obvious way possible.

Arthur coughs and looks everywhere but at him, mumbling, "I— Right. Well. Whatever. Just thought you should know." Fiddling with his can, Arthur continues, “I should probably also admit that I tried to warn him off you at first and told him you were a cock-whore. Which, to be fair, you kind of are. A well-meaning and loyal one anyway."

"A cock-whore with a heart of gold. Why Princess, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to save me from a life of disrepute out on the streets. Trying to make an honest man out of me," Gwaine says, fluttering his eyelashes and putting on his best southern belle accent.

"Oh shut up. Merlin usually has horrible taste in men, I’ve just come to expect it."

"And let me guess, you have such great taste in women."

Arthur looks pained. "God no. Why do you think we're both still single and living together?"

Gwaine has to laugh at that. They’re all hopeless.

—

Gwaine also finally begins to see what everyone means about Arthur being a great guy.

His first clue is when he starts making fun of Arthur for all the neatly labeled meals he has in the fridge. There’s Friday dinner and Saturday lunch and he smirks in satisfaction as Princess splutters and blushes.

“Those aren’t even for _me_ , dickwad. I may not be the greatest cook, but if I don’t stock up at Trader Joe’s and plan everything out for the week and pretty much shove prepared meals into Merlin’s face, he will just not eat.”

And Gwaine can’t even make fun of him for that, damn him. “Merlin’s mother must think you’re a godsend.”

Arthur preens. “Hunith loves me.”

The second clue comes up when Gwaine harasses Arthur about how Merlin lives in a shoebox of a room and he can’t believe that Arthur charges him a third of the rent for it.

This just makes Arthur glare sullenly. “Has it ever occurred to you that the _amazing_ deal on rent that we get doesn’t make any sense? With my mother’s trust I could afford to live comfortably in a place much nicer than this and I would gladly not charge Merlin anything if I thought he would accept it. But when med school started Merlin was planning to commute in from Lowell every day and I knew how much time and stress that was going to add, so I found this place and got a lease on it and told Merlin the rent was much lower than it actually is, so he wouldn’t feel guilty or say no or whatever. So just _shut the fuck up_ alright?"

As Arthur storms out of the room, Gwaine realizes that he gets it now, the almost fanatical loyalty that people have to Arthur.

The fact that every other day finds Arthur tearing his hair out over some case about prisoners’ rights or fighting to take down discriminatory laws does not help Gwaine feel less like he’s the ass of the two of them. And he spends all day helping to save babies and comfort their families, so that’s probably saying something.

—

One day about a month later, they’re lounging on the couch and watching the Bruins and Arthur looks tense, frowning at the game and just generally much more quiet than normal.

Earlier he heard Arthur banging about the kitchen, muttering about where the fuck Merlin is and how he never sees him.

Not that Gwaine can blame him; he works with Merlin and he barely gets to talk to him, little more than quick hellos as Merlin rushes off to wherever the next emergency is.

Gwaine’s curious, but he’s always been more of the calm, comforting presence, you-can-talk-to-me-when-you’re-ready type. So he waits and is not left disappointed.

“I think I might be bi.”

Gwaine whips his head around to stare at him. Arthur continues on in an eerily nonchalant voice as if he is discussing stock prices or some other such absurdly unimportant nonsense, resolutely staring at the game, beer bottle poised halfway to his mouth, “I mean, I kissed a guy once in high school, cause why not, and I liked it just as much as any other kissing, so I’ve kind of always known. But I liked girls too and then it just never came up again and I didn’t think much about it. But… I am really, actually bi.

“And, no, I have no idea why I’m even saying this to you right now. It just kind of seemed important. To say. To someone. I guess. I don’t know, _fuck_.”

For once in his life, Gwaine isn’t entirely sure what to say. Despite being annoying as all hell sometimes, Arthur has turned out to be a good guy. A great guy, actually, and he has no idea why Arthur has decided to confide in him of all people, but he wants to help, if he can. Also, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t jacked off to the thought of Arthur on his knees. With that face, he was _made_ to be on his knees. God. And now it might even be a possibility.

The thought of him looking up at Gwaine, panting and wrecked, cheeks and lips painted with come, is so not helpful right now. Arthur is having a quarter-life crisis and does not need Gwaine to just be sitting there perving on him. No matter how fucking pretty his big blue eyes and wide mouth would look.

“Okay. That’s awesome, really. And you won’t be getting any pressure from me. I’ve always thought people should just do whatever they feel like and are comfortable with in the moment, regardless of whatever stupid labels everyone else tries to put on things. Screw it. You like who you like and nothing else matters.” He pauses and then has to ask, “Any idea what brought this on? Why now, I mean.”

Arthur doesn’t really acknowledge him at first, still boring holes into the tv, before words finally rush out of him. “Well, Merlin’s almost never around anymore, and I guess I’m just really missing hanging out with him and it’s making me think _things_. And I was also just wondering a few minutes ago what your abs probably looked like and it wasn’t for comparison’s sake. Shit, why am I even saying any of this. Fucking hell.”

The bottle has yet to move from its midway point, Arthur’s body stiff as a board.

“I think you’re freaking out. A bit,” Gwaine tries to point out helpfully, aiming for an upbeat tone.

“Probably.” Arthur snorts and finally takes a sip of beer.

“Anything I can do to help?” Gwaine asks, cautiously putting his hand on Arthur’s knee and squeezing comfortingly. Arthur isn’t the touchy-feely type, but lord knows he can probably use some support, and Gwaine thinks he must truly be flipping out when he doesn’t even try to move Gwaine’s hand or anything, just sighs and closes his eyes.

“Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t— I’ve always found guys attractive, just not more attractive, and there’re always girls around, so why bother. But recently… it’s been on my mind a lot more recently. Fuck know’s why.”

“Well, I figure, two things have happened recently. One: you’ve been seeing a lot less of Merlin and are probably only really appreciating him for the first time, you ass. And this is your subconscious’s way of telling you to stop being a fucktard. Or two: you have been spending a lot of time with me, and, I’ll be honest, you wouldn’t be the first boy I’ve turned. All the boys want some, especially my abs, whether they know it or not,” Gwaine says with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows.

Arthur shoves at him, pushing his face into the back of the sofa. “Oh fuck off!” But a lot of the tension seems to have released from his body, so Gwaine just laughs and pushes back until they’re both tussling on the couch, limbs flying everywhere.

At some point Gwaine ends up practically in Arthur’s lap, with his hands pinning Arthur’s onto the couch, and suddenly all the air seems to have been sucked out of the room, Arthur stilling completely and staring up at him with huge eyes and slightly parted lips. Panting a bit, Arthur swallows, eyes roving all over Gwaine’s face, and he looks so fucking curious and vulnerable and _wondering_ all at once that Gwaine doesn’t think he can take it.

He leans a bit closer and Arthur’s breath hitches, pink tongue darting out and leaving a glistening trail along his lower lip. “You are a gorgeous one, aren’t you?” he muses quietly, almost to himself, and then shifts his hips down, just a little, making Arthur shudder. “The way I see it, if you’re confused at all, nothing like going for it. No pressure, just seeing how you like it. If you’d be more comfortable with someone you don’t know, I’d be more than happy to wingman for you and I know some good places; but if you’d feel better with a friend, absolutely no expectations, well, I’m right here. Whatever you want, whatever pace you need. M’kay?” He nuzzles his nose a bit against Arthur’s.

Squirming underneath him — and, fuck, that feels way, way too good — Arthur’s eyes go even wider, if possible, and a furious blush spreads across his whole face. Practically squeaking, before finally clearing his throat and gaining more confidence, he says, “Um, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot. With you, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

“Practice.”

“Yeah, practice.”

And Gwaine smiles, dropping one of Arthur’s wrists to bring his hand up and cup his jaw. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get to see my abs,” he purrs, inching closer.

“Ass,” Arthur mumbles, eyelashes fluttering closed, as Gwaine finally presses his lips down into a soft, soft kiss.

When Arthur melts bonelessly underneath him and opens up with a whimper, Gwaine knows that he will give him as much practice time as anyone could ever want.

—

Gwaine can’t help it really; he’s curious and has always been the type to poke and prod at things even when he shouldn’t.

But how anyone could expect him _not_ to ask, he doesn’t know. Honestly, it’s only because he has the patience of a saint that he waits nearly a week to bring it up. A glorious week, he might add, full of handjobs and frotting and one blowjob (Gwaine is a generous man after all) and generally acting more like a horny, idiot teenager than he has in quite some time.

“So you and Merlin, you ever thought about it?” he asks, cocking his hip up against the counter in his apartment after one of their indoor games. Pushing his sweaty hair off his face and making plans for a desperately needed shower (for two), he chugs some water and regards Arthur intently.

He might be the first to admit he’s too damn curious for his own good, but, well, one look at Merlin and one look at Arthur and they both like men and, yeah, _Gwaine_ has definitely thought about it, so he can’t imagine a world in which Arthur is so blind he’s never noticed his roommate is fucking gorgeous.

Arthur looks offended. “Of course I’ve _thought_ about it, but I always had girlfriends back in college and then he became my best friend, the best friend I’ve ever had actually, and I would never want to do anything to ruin that, especially not when I'm confused about my sexuality half the time. It’s—,” he trails off quietly, glancing anywhere but at Gwaine. Sighing, Arthur frowns down at the linoleum.

Gwaine tuts and moves closer, pulling Arthur into his space by the waist. “Makes perfect sense to me. Was just curious, is all.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, but some of the tension seems to fade from his shoulders, and he gives a slight smile, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“So, yes, he’s very attractive — I’m aware, believe me — but he’s still my klutzy roommate and best friend,” he says, shrugging with a half-grin and wrapping his arms more fully around Gwaine’s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck.

Gwaine laughs. “Ah, well, good to know that my epic fantasies about what the two of you could get up to while I’m not around aren’t only in my head. Admittedly, it’s even better when I think about myself in the middle of both of you fine, young specimens.”

Pulling back, he leers up at Arthur with a raised eyebrow and thoroughly enjoys the charming shade of red that Arthur turns.

"Well what do you think about Percy then?"

Arthur’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head and Gwaine cannot stop the hysterical burst of laughter. "He's— He's _huge_ , Gwaine."

"Yeah and just imagine how much fun it'd be to climb him." Arthur sputters and chokes on air and Gwaine laughs harder than he has in a long, long time.

—

The next time Gwaine hangs out with Arthur, they grab a few beers at their local around the corner, joking around the whole time, and Arthur even cuddles up to him a bit. It feels really good, he has to admit. Arthur has a great laugh and he looks so much free and happy — it's kind of doing little, queasy things to his insides that he doesn't know quite how to deal with. But it's worth it, so worth it.

When they finally make their way up to Gwaine's apartment, Arthur barely waits for the door to shut behind them before pinning him there and kissing him breathless.

"I've been thinking about doing that all day. I was in court and all I could think about was what you would feel like under my hands, god," he groans, grasping at Gwaine's shirt and tugging insistently until he pulls back enough to take it off.

Gwaine hums his agreement — being a gorgeous and relentlessly curious man's practice dummy has done wonders for his already hyped-up libido. "Let's move this to the bedroom, yeah?"

"Yeah... yeah, come on." It takes a long minute, but Arthur finally stops kissing him long enough to grab his hand and yank him down the hall, grinning the whole way.

As they roll onto the bed, Arthur pushes him down and hesitates a bit, licking his lips and running his eyes all over Gwaine's body. "So, I was thinking, maybe it's time I tried to reciprocate, you know. See if I like it or not. The idea definitely piques my interest enough, so to speak," he says, glancing up at Gwaine through his eyelashes, and, shit, blow job. Gwaine's brain might be short-circuiting. Just a little. It's not like he's been fantasizing about that image all the time recently or anything.

"Yeah, if you want to. Never going to turn down a blowie, especially not from someone with a mouth like yours," he murmurs a lot more hoarsely than he intended and reaches up to stroke Arthur's face, petting his lips possessively. Such a lovely mouth.

Arthur looks both pleased and embarrassed, but he scoffs a bit and puts up a confident front, declaring, "Yes, yes, and you should feel honored that this mouth has decided to grace your presence at all."

Looking excited and like someone about to unwrap a long-awaited present, he quickly attacks Gwaine's jeans with clumsy fingers, finally getting him completely naked without too much hassle. He happily strokes Gwaine's cock lightly and the way his face resembles an eager puppy is so strong that Gwaine has to chuckle a little and pet his hair softly.

After a couple minutes of this, however, some of his bravado seems to slip and he frowns down at Gwaine, muttering, "Right... So. I'll just, um, get on with this, then."

"Just take your time, explore. Do whatever you want. As long as there's no teeth, I promise I'll enjoy it."

“Right. Yes. People have been doing this for centuries, it can’t be that hard.” He smiles tightly, breath ghosting along Gwaine’s shaft as he leans forward and narrows his eyes in concentration.

Laughing, Gwaine smirks and says, “Oh, I promise you it’s plenty hard,” and Arthur snorts and rolls his eyes. It seems to have broken through the staring match Arthur is currently having with his dick though, because his tongue suddenly seems to be _everywhere_ , licking and tasting and humming in consideration — from brief, little flicks across the top to long strokes along his whole length.

“ _Shit_ ,” Gwaine hisses, hands finding their way into Arthur’s hair and tugging completely of their own volition. “Okay, okay, condom time. Definitely condom time.” Throwing his arm out blindly, he knocks everything on his nightstand over until he finally manages to yank open the drawer.

“And, look, strawberry flavor! The only one that tastes not completely terrible,” he says, grinning as he flings the wrapper at Arthur’s head.

Arthur hums and before Gwaine knows it, Arthur is taking him down and it feels so much better than it ought to. Christ. Knowing Arthur, he’d probably been _studying_ about what to do for days. Not that he can complain about the results.

Arthur’s eyes water and Gwaine can feel his throat spasm every time he chokes himself on Gwaine’s cock, but he doesn’t stop and the quick, sucking rhythm he sets up is throttling him toward his orgasm. And, fuck, what a pretty picture he makes, full lips spread so wide and eyes closed as he moans around him.

When Arthur reaches up and tentatively strokes his balls and back behind, Gwaine yanks hard on the soft strands in his fingers and thrusts up once, coming brilliantly with a shout.

"So how you feeling down there?" Gwaine asks with a lazy grin. So not fair how much better Arthur was than he was his first time, but, then again, he was only 15 at the time, so it's probably a miracle Alex's dick had survived intact at all.

 _Mmmmm, first times_. A majority of them not all that great in retrospect. Arthur is a lucky bastard.

Looking up at him with huge, glazed eyes, Arthur mumbles, “ _Definitely_ not straight.”

Gwaine can only grin wider.

—

The next Saturday, Merlin miraculously does not work at all. This also happens to be the day that Gwaine finally meets the infamous Will.

No matter how many times Gwaine has questioned Arthur, Arthur only scowls and says, “I am _never_ forgiving him for the Bahamas.”

Even Merlin cringes when this is brought up, saying, “It… was not a good spring break, for either of them. Best not to bring it up. And help keep them apart if you can.”

Gwaine swears he will get the full story one day. It must be _spectacular_.

Will does not disappoint and Gwaine gleefully wishes that he would come down from Lowell to hang out with them every day.

When Will finally strolls in, Merlin stares at him in horror. "I swear to god, Will, I am going to go into your closet and burn all of your neon clothes someday."

“Whatever, bro. Way to sound like all the other fucking fascists in this country.” But he grins and pulls Merlin into a long, back-slapping hug. “You need to come home more often man. I know you’re a fancy doctor now and everything, but think about how I feel at home all alone, forgotten, while you hang out with these jackasses.”

Arthur scowls. "Shut up, you fuckwad.”

“Missed you too, _your highness_.”

This is the best entertainment Gwaine has had in _months_. The sour look on Arthur’s face when confronted with a neon-painted dudebro in the wild is hilarious. Gwaine wonders if he could trap them together in a glass enclosure and just watch the fallout; it would be fabulous.

Later, he tells Arthur this and he looks so unbelievably horrified and swears never to give Gwaine a blow job again that Gwaine ends up relenting and conceding that he is a terrible, terrible person (and then he helps Arthur practice some more).

First though, when he finds himself alone outside with Will, he gladly accepts the proffered one-hitter and takes a long drag.

Will suddenly looks a lot more serious, and a hell of a lot more perceptive, however, and Gwaine feels a tingling of unease at the base of his spine. "So, you and Pendragon?"

Gwaine just shrugs nonchalantly and says, "He's an okay guy. I'm beginning to see why Merlin's friends with him."

"Friends, right," Will replies with narrowed eyes that manage to convey both his incredulity and his decision to not pass judgment or do anything about it. Yet.

—

All week Gwaine has been trying to find time to talk to Merlin; Gwaine has never seen him look so terrible. Obviously his residency has been kicking his ass and Gwaine feels more than a little bit of guilt that he's been spending so much time with Princess that he hasn't been paying enough attention to Merlin, who clearly needs his help at the moment. He also has a bad feeling that it might have something to do with a couple of sick premies who were never able to recover.

Of course trying to corner an overworked and hallucinating-ly sleep-deprived resident is not an easy task.

Finally, on Wednesday, their shifts seem to have lined up so that they both get off around the same time. Sneaking out early, Gwaine runs to the liquor store and grabs a bottle of Jameson. Whiskey cures all ills as far as he is concerned and Merlin looks like he could use more than a drink.

After returning to their floor he finds Merlin crouched in front of his locker with his head in his hands. He looks so pale and drawn already and Gwaine hasn't even seen his face yet. His hair is pulled every which way as if he's been tugging on it — and not in a good way, unfortunately. Poor fucker.

Sliding an arm around his shoulders, Gwaine sits down next to him and pulls him into a one-armed hug. "Hey, you all right? I got some whiskey if you want. When I saw you earlier it looked like you could stand a drink," he murmurs into his ear, holding the brown paper bag out and shaking it back and forth.

Merlin only gives him a wet hiccup from where his face is buried in Gwaine's shoulder. "I really don't think anything can make any of this better." He sounds so wheezy and faint it breaks Gwaine's heart.

Giving that dark mess of hair a quick peck, Gwaine sighs. "Well, the whiskey might not help that much, but I've got two good ears that are more than willing to listen. Whatever shit’s happened you know it'll feel a lot better once you get it off of your chest." He only gets a sigh and a burrowing head in response. "Come on, I know a good supply closet that no one ever goes in. We can share the bottle and you'll tell me all about your woes."

When Merlin just sniffs a bit, Gwaine heaves himself up and pulls his dead weight along, arm around his shoulders, until he can push him into the closet, little more than a cupboard really, and make themselves comfortable on the floor.

Head sagging against Gwaine's, Merlin rubs his face wearily. Even in the dim under-cabinet lighting the tired lines around Merlin's face are visible, but Gwaine is struck by just how beautiful he still is: long, thin fingers that seem to promise all sorts of gentle caresses and a lovely mouth that promises everything else. Unscrewing the cap and passing off the bottle, he admires the reedy, gangly body next to him and just wants to curl around him and protect him from the world; he'd give anything for that. For this man who has so much to give everyone else.

Merlin sucks down a few large gulps and Gwaine really hopes that he's eaten something today, because he is going to be feeling that real quick. Releasing the bottle with a pop, he passes it back and snuggles further into Gwaine. "Fuck. This week, it's been terrible, Gwaine, so terrible. I know we can't always perform miracles, but I worked so hard to get here and to not be able to do anything… to see the looks on the families’ faces when we tell them that… It hurts, so much." By the end Gwaine can feel the dampness left behind as Merlin starts to cry, shoulders shaking.

"I know, I know. C'mere," he whispers back, taking a drink and then pulling Merlin even closer until he has his arms wrapped around Gwaine and is practically in his lap. "I don't think there's anything I can say to make it better. Anything anyone can say. It's tragic and at the end of the day we're just left to deal with it, pull ourselves together and keep on going."

"Goddammit, they're babies, Gwaine. _Babies_. How do you tell someone their baby isn't going to make it?"

Running his hands through Merlin's hair, he tries his best to soothe him, provide whatever comfort he can. "I wish I knew, I'm sorry. It does get easier though, if not a lot. You might not be able to save everyone, but you do help so many people, I swear.”

Merlin looks up at him with tears clinging to his eyelashes and Gwaine is pretty sure his heart is going to break. “I _know_ that. I really do, but it just doesn’t—“ He pauses on a shuddering sob, before continuing, “It still hurts. No matter how much they prepare us for it.”

With a sigh, Gwaine pulls him close again, placing feather-light kisses across his face, offering the only solace he knows how. “I know, I’m sorry, I know,” he whispers, then gently cups Merlin’s jaw in his hands and leans down to kiss him soundly, tongue sliding across his bottom lip until Merlin whimpers and squirms into his lap, hands fluttering all over Gwaine’s body like he can’t decide where he wants to touch most.

Sliding his hands back and into the hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck, Gwaine sighs as the kiss opens up into something wet and messy, with Merlin shivering and making these tiny, high noises as Gwaine strokes softly along the roof of his mouth.

“Let me— I can make you feel better. Let me, please.”

“Yeah. _Yeah_ ,” Merlin pants as Gwaine gets his hands on the bare skin of his back, rucking up his scrubs, while he mouths across Merlin’s jaw and neck, the stubble catching his lips and tongue and making him groan.

He feels fuzzy, like he’s floating on a high he never wants to come down from, and somehow he ends up with Merlin shuddering around him and slowly, so fucking slowly, lowering himself onto his cock. Through the dim-lit haze all he can do is watch the pale body stretched out before him, head tipped back as he rests against Gwaine’s bent knees and fingers digging into his thighs. The slight pain of his blunt fingertips throws everything into sharp clarity and Gwaine can only moan as Merlin writhes on his cock, fucking down with abandon, lust-blown eyes wide and mouth open in an utterly destroyed expression.

“Oh, fuck, Gwaine. _Fuck_. Please, I need— _Please_ , Gwaine,” he groans hoarsely.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers that _they’re in a hospital closet_ and Merlin is loud — perfectly, amazingly loud — and he wrenches himself up and wraps his hand around Merlin’s mouth until he bites down and whines, gagging him.

Gwaine pants wetly into his ear, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, come on, Merlin. You feel so good, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” And he bites into the soft skin of his neck, making Merlin slam back down hard while he snaps his hips up and _there_ , right there. Merlin twists fiercely in his arms and Gwaine leans back, fingers pushing into Merlin’s mouth, and watches as Merlin tugs himself over the edge, hand a blur and hot, white streaks of come landing on Gwaine’s chest.

Eyes rolling back, his head bangs into the cupboard behind him and he thinks he might pass out from the pleasure of Merlin drawing tight around him.

 _Fuck_. That was incredible. And he really, really hopes no one heard that, because even he has never been quite this reckless at work; but he thinks it might be worth it, even if it does get him fired.

Merlin has wriggled off him and collapsed onto his chest, headless of the come and sweat, burrowing down like a sleepy kitten. “Thanks, I needed that,” he mumbles into Gwaine’s neck.

Taking a long swig from the forgotten bottle, Gwaine sighs. “I know.” Then he rubs a soothing hand up and over Merlin’s back until he snuffles in contentment.

He tries not to think back to his first days on the ward and how he’d thrown up one night and stumbled into a bar to get shit-faced drunk and fuck the first guy he could find, desperate to feel any sort of connection to the living. Desperate to forget.

It hadn’t really worked and he knows he will do anything it takes to spare Merlin as much of that pain as he can. Remembering Arthur though, he hopes he hasn’t just massively fucked everything up.

But then Merlin actually smiles and nuzzles into his chest and Gwaine decides to enjoy the moment, however long it lasts.

—

**Arthur Pendragon (5:36 p.m.):** _I think I should come out soon. I’m a civil rights lawyer ffs with a gay best friend and am having sex with a man. I spend all day fighting for these rights! It’s getting dumb not to, yeah?_

Well fuck a duck, what can he even say to that? _Sorry, no, because I’ve also fucked said gay best friend and this has awkward written all over it._ Not to mention that they live together. Shit. He’s really gone and gotten himself into a pickle this time. _Good job, Gwaine, go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back_.

He swears he had the best of intentions.

And, truthfully, he really does think he’s been good for the both of them. They’re his friends and he cares about them, so of course he’s going to help them out when they’re in need. His help just tends to involve more sex than most people’s. Nothing wrong with that.

Of course bagging two BFFs at once without mentioning it to them is _probably_ frowned upon. By most people (not that Gwaine is most people). And it shouldn’t be a big deal, really; it’s not like he lead them on or anything, just offered some nice, honest, no-strings-attached sexing. A win-win for everyone. But Princess, somehow, doesn’t strike him as the sharing type.

Nothing for it though, he supposes. He can only hope and pray that they never connect the dots, or at least that it doesn’t come out badly when they do.

Or that it somehow leads to a wonderful, steamy threesome. With the two of them, that might make his life.

Gay boys can dream.

Thumbing open the message window, he mumbles to himself while texting.

_Wicked. I’m here for you man, whatever you need._

—

Although the nights are still cold, spring is finally beginning to show itself a few days later when Merlin insists on Gwaine and Arthur accompanying him maple sugaring, of all things, on his day off.

Arthur has the longsuffering look of a man who has done this many times before, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future, if only to make Merlin happy. As Merlin is pretty much vibrating in the front seat in excitement, Gwaine smiles and can’t blame him.

Turning around, Merlin waves his hands animatedly while he explains to Gwaine why he insisted on dragging them both into the forest at the crack of dawn. “Every year my mom would take me to visit Uncle Gaius out in the Berkshires and we’d tap a tree and come back home with loads of syrup and she’d make pancakes for _weeks_.” His smile falters slightly, before he continues, “With school and everything, and now my residency, I can’t make the trip to visit Gaius very often, so I make Arthur take me, even if he spends half the time whining.” Merlin sticks his tongue out at Arthur, who only rolls his eyes, muttering to himself as he pulls into a nondescript parking lot off the highway.

Breath clouding the air, they pile out of the car and begin trekking down the trail while Merlin looks for the perfect maple tree in the woods. Gwaine stuffs his hands in his pockets when Merlin falls into step with him and bumps him lightly in the shoulder, smiling widely.

“Thanks for coming with us.”

He grins back and says, “How could I not? Who doesn’t love maple syrup?” And he means it, although he’s been very careful not to flirt with either of them in front of the other.

Suffice it to say, he’s beginning to feel more than a bit guilty. Or a lot guilty. And he knows he should say something. He just hasn’t thought of what yet.

His mam always said his inability to keep his legs closed was going to get him in trouble someday. He can’t say she was wrong. Christ. Why do they both have to be such _good_ people, it’s giving him a complex.

He thinks he could happily follow them anywhere, just listening to their bickering like an old married couple. And help Merlin take Princess down a peg or two from time to time, of course. Fuck knows he doesn’t need a bigger ego.

So he has no idea how this situation is going to pan out, but he’s going to give it his best damn shot. These two assholes are worth it, somehow.

Unfortunately, that resolve is not helping him figure out how to walk this weird tightrope between them where they both are giving him _looks_ whenever they think they can get away with it.

Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick. He’s so screwed. This is why he’s been making himself scarce recently, until he figures out what to do, and he reaffirms his vow not to sleep with anyone until it’s solved. No matter how tempting.

He should only have to be celibate for a week at most, right? He can do this, he can figure it out.

—

It turns out there’s not a whole lot to tapping a maple tree.

“So we just insert the spigot into the tree and leave it to drip juice into the jug?”

“Yep!” Merlin chirps. “And then we take it home at the end of the day. It’ll have to be boiled down to turn it into syrup, but, yeah, that’s pretty much it. Easy, huh?”

Merlin looks so hopeful and excited that Gwaine just laughs and nods, valiantly trying to ignore the faces Arthur is making behind Merlin’s back.

Either he’s completely unsuccessful or Merlin just knows Arthur that well, but without even missing a beat, he reaches back and punches Arthur’s chest without glancing over his shoulder.

“Shut it, asshole.”

Arthur laughs, smiling, and smirks with glee when he finds a long stick perfect for whacking them.

“Might as well make this fun.”

Before Gwaine knows it, they are having a mock battle with sticks for swords and running around chasing Merlin once they realize how truly awesome his shrieks are.

They’re collapsed into a pile by the end, with Merlin gasping and clutching his side in laughter, tears streaming down his face while panting, “ _Mercy_. Mercy already, you fuckers. Let me breathe, goddammit.”

Gwaine can’t remember the last time he had this much fun rolling around in leaves and dirt and enjoys the comfortable silence as they curl up crowded close together on the ground trying to catch their breath.

When Arthur crawls away to piss, Merlin turns to him and says, “Hey, I just wanted to say thanks again for the other day. I know you’re not looking for a relationship or anything and despite what Arthur may think, I’m not walking around with my heart on a silver platter for everyone to break. You’re a good friend and I’m glad we have you around.”

He seems so perfectly sincere that Gwaine can’t decide if it makes him feel marginally better or like more of a horrible person.

—

When they get home after a long, cold day in the forest, it's all so oddly domestic that something squeezes tight in his heart. Merlin is puttering around happily in the kitchen like some sort of chemist gone mad and Arthur, despite his profuse protests otherwise, clearly thinks the day an amazing success — with all the laughing and running around and poking things with sticks, Gwaine knows his inner child is more than giddy.

And while Gwaine knows he's still a long ways off from settling down (even now he can feel the faintest itch otherwise), for the first time he thinks he finally gets it. Gets why people will do so much to have this to come back to.

When Merlin finally comes in from the kitchen he smiles and says, "Well don't you two look cozy."

They both pat the spot in between them and Merlin collapses and snuggles in.

Gwaine can't remember the last time he was this content just to _be_ around two people. It's nice.

—

Somehow during Arthur’s birthday party the next weekend, Gwaine just knows the other shoe is going to drop. Gwaine can already tell it’s going to happen when Arthur, many, many drinks into the night, begins eying the entire crowd of his friends speculatively.

How convenient to have all of them in one place, even if that place is a noisy and crowded pub where they’re all crammed into some tables they’ve pulled together in the corner.

Earlier they’d gone to a concert at the Middle East — some local band they all knew from back in their college days, which Gwaine had never heard of, but apparently was a cause for much nostalgic singing and celebrating.

When Arthur stands up and declares, “Well, this is as good a time as any, since you’re all here, but I’ve been doing some soul-searching recently and I realized that I’m actually bi, not straight, and I thought you all should know,” Gwaine is not in the least bit surprised by all the jaws that drop at this blunt announcement. Although he does have to wonder about the smug look on Morgana’s face that makes it seem like everything she has ever thought about life has just been proven accurate.

Then her eyes flick to his and her smirk only widens and Gwaine is suddenly very, very uncomfortable. Goddamn, she really _is_ related to Morgause.

Luckily, everyone seems to have gotten over their shock at once, because suddenly everyone is screeching something at Arthur and Merlin is actually choking on air, before finally turning to Arthur and grabbing his arm and shaking it. "Wait, Arthur, _what_?! You never… I've been living with you for years, I'm your best friend, how did I not know this?"

Arthur looks up with huge, wide eyes, clearly contrite. "It's not like that, I swear. I've always found guys attractive enough, just not more attractive, you know? And with so many girls always around, I guess I just never really explored that… potential? Is that the right word? But recently, for whatever reason, I've started thinking about things more and more and I just… Yeah. I _am_ bi, not just curious or appreciative or whatever, and that's cool, you know. I'm cool with it, might as well see where it leads." Gwaine's impressed; although definitely giving the puppy dog eyes and slurring the ends of his words a slight bit, Arthur is remarkably coherent for someone who's drunk his weight in booze.

Merlin, however, just looks flabbergasted, which, he concedes, really shouldn't be that surprising. Certainly Gwaine was shocked enough when Arthur up and blurted out his newfound sexual identity and there's no way that can't be a mind-fuck to someone who's been close to Arthur for so long. Especially someone who's as gay as  _Robot Unicorn Attack_  — not that Gwaine can judge; he might own the t-shirt — and thought he had a completely off-limits and gorgeous best friend and roomie.

"Wow. Okay. I mean, you know I absolutely would never have any problems with whatever sexuality anyone has, let alone yours, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't amazed right this moment. Shit! We need more shots or something! Stupid, fruity, unbelievably gay shots in honor of your recent achievements," he finally says in response.

There is a general chorus for more, hands banging on the table and everyone coming over and yelling out their congratulations to a red-faced, but truly happy and grinning Arthur.

Laughing at the general revelry and back-thumping and heartfelt hugs, Gwaine jumps in, "Yes, more booze for everyone! I'll go round something up from the bar."

As he puts an order in with the bartender — "Some stupidly fruity shots for the birthday coming out party over there please!" — he surveys the rest of the group in amusement. While many, many of Arthur's friends are more than a bit bent themselves, they all definitely seem to be jabbering on in excited astonishment, ready to celebrate their friend even if they would never in a million years have suspected that Arthur would make his little announcement.

When he finally stumbles back with a whole tray, Merlin barely wastes any time once the alcohol has disappeared to pin Arthur and Gwaine into the corner. Shit.

"Hold on, I definitely need a full explanation for this. What do you mean 'you've been experimenting a bit to make sure' and why were you eying Gwaine while you said it. And blushing like a second grader with a schoolyard crush I might add." All of these revelations sure seem to have sobered Merlin right up. Where'd the stumbling, grinning drunk go?

Arthur _is_ blushing like a little kid though, glancing at Gwaine under his lashes and biting his lip. Why does he have to be so cute when he’s drunk and embarrassed; it's not fair. "Umm, well. I might have… Gwaine was there and I ended up blurting the whole ridiculous thing out to him and he pointed out that the easiest way to figure out definitively if I would be interested in men like that was to just go for it and try. So I did. Er… Um. We did, I mean. Yep."

And it's out, officially, definitely out. Gwaine does his best to smile and convey his well-meaning intent through his eyes, flipping his hair a bit out of the way, and says, "You know me, always around to help a friend in need! And now Arthur is clearly ready to brave the big, bad waters of the gay dating world. And he still gets the straight one to fall back on, lucky bastard."

Frowning slightly, Merlin only says, "Oh," in response and while he might be trying to seem unaffected, Gwaine can tell that he is a little gutted by this particular discovery.

Arthur looks back and forth between them and, probably noticing something off, breaks in, "I'm so sorry, Merlin. You know I definitely would have come to you first about this, but you've been so stressed and everything recently, barely getting enough sleep as it is, I didn't want to bother you with my ridiculousness until I'd sorted it out a bit. And I did." That's sweet and true, but Arthur has missed the point and Gwaine's not sure how to tell him that that is not precisely, or more accurately, the _only_ reason Merlin would be upset.

Sighing, Merlin rubs his face. "That's— That sucks and is kind of bullshit, because I'm your best friend and no matter how busy or how much of a mess I am, I will always find time for you and I really wish you would remember that. No matter what, Arthur, I mean it." At this, he grips Arthur's arm and gives him his most solemn, serious eyes, then turns to look at Gwaine and crosses his arms over his chest. “I think Gwaine has something he needs to tell you.”

Gwaine grimaces. “I— Well the other day, I was trying to comfort Merlin after a couple of babies passed away on the floor and we were drinking and one thing led to another and, um. We had sex and I’ve felt really, truly wretched since then because I knew I should have said something but I didn’t know what to say… I’m sorry.”

Arthur gapes at him, “You fucked Merlin while you were hooking up with me _and you didn’t say anything_?”

“To be fair, I have not met up with you once since then. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

Looking down at the ground, Merlin frowns and then wraps his fingers gently around Arthur’s wrist. “Come on, it’s your birthday. It’s not like any of us were planning to get married and we can sort this out later, when we don’t have something to celebrate. And this _is_ a cause that’s worth celebrating,” he says with an ironic little smile.

With a huff and a pout, Arthur lets Merlin coax him back over to his friends and soon they’re smashed together in the corner, thick as thieves like they always are.

Deciding to give them some space, he takes the chair between Elena and Gwen and sees Will sitting at the other end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised like ‘ _So, Gwaine, you’ve really fucked up now, and I totally called it_.’ (And who even invited him anyway, it’s Arthur’s birthday, not Merlin’s!)

Gwaine might get a tad more drunk than he intends, letting the alcohol sweep him away in a glorious haze as they decide to end the night at a gay club, not that Gwaine is really paying attention to where they’re going at this point.

Everyone is laughing and dancing and sloshed beyond repair and as Gwaine watches Merlin and Arthur giggle while doing some sort of stupid dance he decides he will do whatever it takes to make this right.

Stumbling up to them, he wraps one arm around each of them and says, “I’m so sorry, I hope you both know that. I really didn’t mean anything by it, I only wanted to help, you know? You’re two of the best people I’ve ever met and I would never want to hurt either of you.” With that, he gives them sloppy kisses on their cheeks, which has Merlin shrieking and sticking his hand in Gwaine’s face.

“Oh _my god_ , Gwaine, stop it, you crazy bastard.”

But he’s laughing and they both give him these sort of exasperated looks that make him feel like a child who’s upset his parents and been scolded but ultimately forgiven and Gwaine beams because he knows all is going to be right with the world.

Grabbing Merlin’s hand, he pulls him into Arthur’s front and steps behind Arthur, saying, “Come on, Merlin, let’s give the birthday boy something to celebrate.”

The two of them are a bit awkward at first, despite the alcohol, unsure where to put their hands or how close to sway together, as Gwaine grinds up behind Arthur and hooks his chin over his shoulder.

The pull and throb of the music, however, eventually wins and soon Merlin is pressed up along Arthur’s front, head tipped down where it rests against Arthur's and breath hitching. Reaching around, Gwaine sneaks his hands into the back pockets of Merlin’s jeans, yanking him forward even more and making Merlin shudder and Arthur’s pulse hammer underneath Gwaine’s lips. Arthur is staring at Merlin like he is a revelation, arms wound tightly around him and palms spread possessively across his back.

Nipping his shoulder, Gwaine sighs into his ear, “Kiss him, you idiot.”

Merlin’s eyes are huge and he looks completely wrecked and beautiful when Arthur finally leans in and kisses him, gently but thoroughly, demanding absolutely everything Merlin has to give, which he does, mouth slanting open and whimpering, long fingers gripping Arthur’s hair.

 _Fuck_.

When they pull apart to take huge, panting breaths, Gwaine pulls Merlin into a kiss of his own, licking at his soft, bruised lips until he hears Arthur hiss, “Holy shit.”

Turning to Arthur, he gives him a fierce kiss as well, grinding his cock into Arthur’s ass until Arthur moans.

“Let’s get a cab, yeah?”

Merlin replies in a daze, “ _Yeah_.”

—

Once they’re back at the apartment, tripping and stumbling over each other as they try to start stripping before they’ve even made it through the door, everything is easy, coming naturally like they were always meant to find their way here.

“Oh _god_ ,” Arthur groans as Gwaine pushes him onto the bed.

“Do you trust us? Will you let us make you feel good?” He is the birthday boy after all.

Arthur looks up at them, mouth swollen and shuddering. “Yes. Anything.”

Growling, Merlin flings himself at Arthur. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Anything, Arthur. _Fuck_.”

Soon they have Arthur turned over, legs spread apart.

“Jesus, Arthur,” Merlin whispers before palming his ass and leaning in to lick.

Arthur makes this high, wounded noise and jerks, shivering. “ _Oh_ , oh. I didn’t— I had no idea,” he moans and shoves back into Merlin, who has his eyes closed in contentment.

Petting Arthur’s hair, Gwaine coaxes him through it. “That’s it, darling, that’s it.”

Once fingers are added into the equation, Arthur is shivering and whining into the mattress and this is the single hottest thing that Gwaine has ever seen. When Merlin positions himself behind Arthur, Gwaine kisses him, nipping his lips, distracting, and swallows all his cries. He has to pull back though, to watch the blissed, open-mouthed expression on Merlin as he finally settles in.

As he comes, Arthur looks shocked and like the whole world has been remade anew. Maybe it has.

The evil smirk on Merlin's face as they both turn toward him once they've recovered, however, might be his favorite part.

—

As the sun peeks through the curtains, Gwaine stretches happily, scratching his belly, and rolls back over to mold himself along Arthur’s back ( _of course_ Princess has to be in the middle, selfish bastard who’s just as terrible at sharing as Gwaine always suspected he would be). Merlin has snuggled up to Arthur’s front and is toying with the hair on his chest absentmindedly while gazing at them both with a dreamy sigh.

“If someone had shown me a picture of the two of you in high school and told me that I would someday end up in this bed with you, I think I’d have died of shock. Or hysterical laughter, whichever really. Or maybe I have died and I get to spend heaven reliving my teenaged fantasies’ wet dreams.”

Gwaine snorts and kisses the back of Arthur’s neck, arm splayed over them both to rest on Merlin’s wonderful ass, which is much too covered by the sheet. “Believe it or not, but our days of old might not have been so different. I’d never have believed I’d end up here at the age of fifteen, no way. Teeny, little gay boy me who had yet to hit his growth spurt.”

Rumbling and squirming in between them, Arthur grumbles, “Well I thought I was straight; I’d have probably had a heart attack trying to imagine what anyone would even do with two men in their bed, regardless of how attractive they were.”

“Was it worth figuring out?” Gwaine breathes hotly into his ear, tongue licking along the edge until Arthur shudders and wriggles his ass back a bit, and Merlin immediately perks up in interest.

“Yeah.”

Merlin grins.


End file.
